In my own elastic mind, I am occasionally self-motivated to account for a return to original ideas as an inadvertent inventive intonation.
Much like audio feedback, crystalline thought waves rebounding against my consciously preconceived notions result in ever-finer filters, like gradients, letting in measured new raw frequencies while blocking out old random noise and fuzzy visions.
Many times, singularly fluttering on the edge of sleep, I struggle to concentrate on the strobe-like pulsing of a non-synchronous conceptual echo humming with an out-of-time rhythm, like a small, soft hammer pounding onto the expansive flat drumhead of my inflated human ego.
At this point, I can choose to let this germ of an idea stay within my attentive view, or let it pass, lazily, like a butterfly flitting by me to visit another open flower.
But, if I try to look back, or stare too closely at this conspicuously timeless conceptual intersection, or even more selfishly, make a sentient attempt to identify my own proprietary oneness with the very process of discovery, this train of insight quickly passes by my lonely station and I am forced to wait, without time schedule or itinerary, for another transport.
So, in my experience, the key, if there is one, is recognizing “it” and letting “it” happen to me, like a beautiful sunrise. The more I allow “it” to flourish, the more “it” lives on its own while becoming easier to recognize as something of value.
Billy Radd
Asheville
